


Maybe Someday

by Nanashi Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-01
Updated: 2006-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Nanashi%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamaki thought Haruhi was cute even when he thought she was a boy. Now that she's a girl, he's not sure what to think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Someday

"You look troubled. Are you still thinking about Haruhi?"

Tamaki arched his neck to look straight back, letting the heated rush to his face answer for him. Kyouya didn't need words from him, anyhow; he had a bad habit of reading Tamaki's mind, which meant that he usually knew the answer even before he asked the question.

After a moment, Tamaki rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up to watch Kyouya's pen traverse his notebook for a while. Finally he said, "I didn't know she was a girl at first."

Kyouya smiled without looking up. "Yes, I know." 

"No, no." Tamaki rested his weight on his elbows as his hands waved off Kyouya's facile response. He left them in the air, draping off his wrists, palms up, as he elucidated, "I mean, even when I thought she was a boy, I really thought she was cute. I thought _he_ was cute."

"So you said at the time," Kyouya observed, and something in his eyes when he glanced at Tamaki made Tamaki think that Kyouya was winding him up—but Kyouya was fixed on his pages again before Tamaki could get a good enough look. "As I recall," Kyouya went on conversationally, pushing his glasses up his nose, causing the sun to glint off one lens and then the other as he angled his head, "you were more than ready to service 'him' in your host capacity."

"Well, of course!" Indignation briefly furrowed Tamaki's brow, and just as quickly smoothed it out. "I am a consummate professional, after all," he declared with a proud upturn of his chin. "We all are; you wouldn't have done any differently. None of you would." Before Kyouya could offer comment, Tamaki shifted onto his back, still propped up, looking out over the immaculately manicured grounds. "But this was different," he went on. "It was..." At a loss for words, he flopped back onto the grass, shielding his eyes as he gazed up to seek meaningful shapes in the clouds.

"Unprofessional?" Kyouya suggested. 

"Yes, that." Tamaki sighed. "And something else... Is it wrong, do you think? I mean, I know she's a girl. But if she truly had been a boy?"

"'Wrong?'" Kyouya repeated.

Tamaki could hear the arched brow in Kyouya's tone. "Wrong," he said, and then tried to clarify: "Disgusting. Am I—would it have been disgusting?"

"Do you think Honey and Mori are disgusting?"

Tamaki rolled without propping up to stare again at Kyouya. He had never been able to differentiate between Kyouya's sarcasm and sincerity, and so he had decided always to interpret Kyouya as sincere. One of these days, he believed, Kyouya would be. He almost thought this was the day but he couldn't escape the feeling he was being played. 

He braced himself on his forearms as he reasoned it out. "I think they're friends," he said carefully, uncertainty creeping in at the edges as Kyouya met his gaze unblinking. "And cousins. Even lacking the blood-bond, they have a covenant that goes back generations... They love each other, of course," he concluded, raising his hands so the fan of his fingers could confirm the surety of his logic, "but they aren't _in_ love with each other."

His confidence fell at Kyouya's next words, however: "Is that what you really think?" Kyouya glanced up but didn't keep looking long enough to see Tamaki's face color again. "And then there are Kaoru and Hikaru," he went on blithely, eyes traversing the page he was on. When Tamaki laughed, Kyouya shot him _that_ look accompanied by the arched brow and Tamaki stopped mid-chuckle, mouth agape.

"You're having me on now," he said. Kyouya merely gave him a shrug, the one that meant yes or no or both at the same time. "That's just an act," Tamaki said, "for the club..."

"If that's what you choose to believe, My Lord." 

At a loss for a comeback, Tamaki shut his mouth after opening it and fell back to the grass in silence. He watched the clouds for some time but they stubbornly declined to form themselves into anything recognizable. 

"Do you think it means anything?" he asked quietly after a while, uncharacteristically subdued by the formless, open sky. "About Haruhi, I mean?" His hands remained folded on his torso. "And me?" 

There was no response from Kyouya. When Tamaki arched his head back on the grass to say that he was serious, that he wanted to know, he saw that Kyouya had put down his book. As he watched, Kyouya removed his glasses, folding them neatly and tucking them into his breast pocket. Then he leaned upside-down over Tamaki and touched his lips to Tamaki's. Tamaki opened his mouth to ask what Kyouya was doing, and found himself full of Kyouya's breath and tongue.

Kyouya's fingers brushed Tamaki's brow as he sat up, smoothing over the furrow, and Tamaki felt his skin ease. Kyouya's touch did nothing about the hot flush just beneath Tamaki's skin, however, and Tamaki lay quietly for long moments after, letting his blood return to normal.

Then he looked upside-down at Kyouya again: "Seriously," he said. "What do you think?"

Kyouya only smiled. Tamaki knew he was thinking something; Kyouya was _always_ thinking _something_. If only Tamaki could read his mind the way Kyouya could read Tamaki's. Maybe someday, Tamaki sighed to himself, gazing up into the sky.


End file.
